Son of the Dark Lord
by SamuelRaske
Summary: A story of Harry being taken by Voldemort at birth without killing James and Lily Potter. It will start in his Fourth year with various changes to the books, most of it won't be TOO large. Dark!Harry, not Evil!Harry. There is a difference! HP/FD pairing.
1. Prologue

It was the night of October 31, 1981. James Potter and his wife, Lily Potter, were in the living room of their house huddled together on a couch as they watched the nearby clock tick onwards. It was common these days for them to hold each other close as they waited for the war to end. They knew that there was nothing they could do out there any longer because Lord Voldemort had long since begun targeting them for their son. Dumbledore had told them of impending dangers and requested that they hide themselves safely away from where he could reach them. Initially, Sirius Black had been chosen and believed to be the best candidate for their secret keeper, but Sirius had convinced James and Lily in the last moments to change their minds. For many months, the last person anyone would suspect had been holding their lives in his hands, Peter Pettigrew.

On that night, Peter Pettigrew had betrayed them, but they still were very unaware of this truth. Instead, they remained huddled together waiting as the seconds passed and they imagined that they would still be a very real, very distinct family. The sound of their front gate opening alerted James to the presence of someone. His first thought was that it must have been Sirius, but for some reason that night, he did not feel sure. "I am just going to check it out, Lils." He said to Lily softly as he could see that she seemed focused again.

He was deeply worried that she wasn't getting enough sleep because of all of this. Lily seemed to always bolt awake at the faintest noises for fear that they had been discovered. It was not as if he was not just as prone to paranoia but James had become accustomed to this way of life and knew that a lack of sleep would be just as dangerous for their baby boy, Harry. He made his way to the front, but as he did so he could see the shadowy, cloaked form of Voldemort. James would know that face anywhere.

Both He and Lily had had their own share of face-offs against him in the past, and their ability to come out alive was what had completely placed Harry into the path of danger. Now, he faced a real problem. The fear immediately hit him like a train and for a moment he couldn't even think. James calmed himself for a second so that he could warn her because he knew that there wasn't a way for him to get out of this alive and with his family intact. "Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off-" He yelled, but was cut off at the end as the door blasted apart.

Voldemort entered into the home swiftly, his cloak billowing around him as effortlessly as he held the wand in his hand. "I take no pleasure in spilling the blood of those of pure birth. Truly, you must know this. Stand aside, let me through and you will live." James fired a curse at him, which Voldemort quickly deflected and he fired a stunning spell to put him down. He did not want to kill them. He had no desire. It had taken much deliberation but he had ultimately come to the conclusion that he would not kill the young child. It would do him much more to have the boy raised under his watchful gaze. Furthermore, it would hamper and likely destroy what little resolve Dumbledore still possessed.

The crash of James' body to the floor was felt with disinterest as Voldemort stepped over the limp body. He would survive, but would ultimately become distraught over the loss of his son. Voldemort was sure of this. It was a just punishment for years of standing in his way to conquest over the wizarding world. He could hear the girl upstairs with her child as he climbed the stairs evenly without any hesitation in his movements. Soon, he would have what he had come for.

Voldemort burst through the door with a cold, cackling laugh as Lily rushed in front of her son to try and protect him. It was a fool's decision to defy him like this, but could be forgiven for now. He had only one goal tonight and his fear was that if he didn't leave soon enough then it would be clear to Dumbledore that he had broken into the house. If such a thing occurred, he would lose his chance. Time was of the essence. "Not Harry, not Harry, Please not Harry!" She screamed at him, desperation pouring over in waves. He could see it and it just made him sick. He did not have time for games, though.

His wand waved quickly and he silenced her voice. Lily's voice fell upon the deafness of the magic that surrounded her as he waved his wand again to bind her from head to toe. He took the crying baby Harry by the edge of his clothes and lifted him from the crib. The skeletal hand grasped the clothes tight as he walked from the house where Lily cried out in vain for someone to stop him while her husband remained woefully unaware of the travesty that was occurring in his house. Voldemort reached the edge of the gate just as Dumbledore arrived to see his old student carrying the infant in his hand.

Before Dumbledore could so much as fire a curse, it was over. Voldemort apparated away from the home being on the outside of the wards while Dumbledore rushed into the home feeling a great weight come over his shoulders unlike any he had ever known. Once there, he made sure to help James regain consciousness, but was greeted with only desperate cries from the elder Potter to find Lily. They rushed upstairs in time to find her bound and crying.

She could not stop it even after they undid her bindings and relinquished the spell that silenced her. Lily held tightly onto her husband as she wept desperately into his arms. James could not hold back anymore and merely swallowed as tears fell down his face. Dumbledore rose away from them, pleased that they had lived but deeply horrified at what may or may not have become the young Harry's fate. He could not even begin to guess but what he did know was that Harry had become the final piece into play.

Dumbledore had been worried about the possibility of a great many things happening ever since he had heard the prophecy uttered, but this was not what he imagined. He leaned against the crib for support as he eyed the empty place where the young Harry had, presumably, been sitting just moments ago. "James! Lily!" He heard the familiar barking voice of Sirius come up the steps. Dumbledore immediately sought to apprehend the man whom he had assumed betrayed the Potters on this very night, but James shook his head. Between choking sobs, he looked up at both of them as they came around the Potters, "Sirius thought that it likely Voldemort would come after him if we used him as the secret keeper so we used Peter Pettigrew, instead."

"What happened James?" Sirius asked desperately, his voice catching. James could barely talk, and just looked down at his wife. Lily clutched at his shirt as she continued to cry, losing herself in her own sorrow and mumbling incoherent remarks about being unable to save her baby. Dumbledore, seeing the obvious problems with them answering Sirius, took the opportunity to give Harry's godfather the news. "It would appear that Voldemort has made a decision no one expected. He has taken Harry, but for what purpose, none of us can guess."

"I leave them in your care, Sirius, for now, I must return to Hogwarts to think on this and find a way to get Harry back before it's too late." He turned to the three of them, his voice weighted by the sorrow of now seeing an infant boy taken into the shadowy mystery of Lord Voldemort, unable to know whether he deemed to kill the boy or find some other use for him. "I fear that things will get far worse before they get better, be prepared for what awaits us."

* * *

><p>Dumbledore walked from the household and apparated back to the castle where he walked through its halls and into his office. In his office, McGonagall and Severus Snape awaited him.<p>

"Albus!" McGonagall called out to him, followed closely by Severus who patiently waited for the answers to come. His hands were moving about themselves in anxiety and Albus could see the pain that was clear across his face. "James and Lily are relatively unharmed, physically. However, Voldemort seems to have made a split decision contrary to what he has told Severus. Whether this was made just prior to his arrival at Godric's Hollow or whether it was made some time ago, I cannot say. He has taken young Harry with him for what reason is likely known only to him for the time being." Dumbledore turned to Snape, "Go. I imagine that, no matter his designs of using Harry, Voldemort is likely to be celebrating with his followers and your absence will be noted. Explain as surely as you can and, if Harry remains alive, you must continue to ingratiate yourself in his service to ensure his safety as much as you can. It may be that you will be our only link to him if he yet lives."

He watched Severus leave and then turned to Minerva. "Minerva, for the time being, we must work tirelessly to continue fighting Voldemort. It is likely that he will push for complete control after his victory tonight and with our numbers beginning to fall so rapidly with his growth of followers, our resistance must continue to be all the more staunch. Contact the Order for an emergency meeting." She turned to walk out of the room and Dumbledore made his way to his phoenix, Fawkes. His hand ran down its head as he sighed heavily, feeling as though his age was steadily beginning to catch up to him.

"Hello, my faithful companion," He said to it. The soft shrill of its almost singing voice brought him a tiny sliver of comfort as he prepared to struggle all the more against Tom. It was a painful blow to their cause to lose Harry when a prophecy had quite naturally spelled his importance in the war. Why did it seem that Voldemort succeeded at every turn? He was losing the amount of people willing to resist against Voldemort with every day. If the war dragged on for much longer, he knew he would be hard pressed to find the kind of numbers needed to win. There was much hope that rested upon the future of Harry Potter.

* * *

><p>A costly estate resided in the very edge of an obscure region of England where Voldemort apparated to almost immediately. "Lucius." The soft hiss of Voldemort said to the air as a young man came from the front of the estate to bow low to his Lord, "Stand." Lucius did as he was commanded, his eyes carefully surveying him. "Is your wife awake?" He nodded, reverently, and stepped in line with his master as Voldemort handed him the baby. "I have much to deal with and cannot spare the time to raise an infant boy." Lucius swallowed, nervous and afraid from asking the question that hung on his mouth. "Who is he?" Voldemort turned to smile, the pure glee on his face as frightening as any other part of him. "Harry Potter."<p>

"You desire him to be raised?" Voldemort nodded, a moment of irritation flashing over his red eyes at being questioned so directly but put down in favor of ensuring that Lucius had the information required to do his task. "I understand that you have a son around his age. It would not be too much to ask of you to raise another child, correct?" Lucius smiled at him, bowing his head again. It was obviously not a task he wanted to possess but to have said that to his master would have put him in dire straits. No, he wouldn't question it even if he thought ill of the mission he was given. "Yes, Draco is the same age." Voldemort turned his attention towards the estate pressing his wand to Lucius' dark mark without even a moment of hesitation and waiting for them the rest of his Death Eaters to arrive. "Leave. It is very important that you succeed; if he is raised properly then I will come for him when he is old enough to be taught. On that day, _if_ you succeed, you will be richly rewarded."

Lucius grinned with a kind of glee that Voldemort preyed on. It was obvious that Lucius would seek status and glory. The man wanted more and more, the obvious signs of the purebloods that he had associated with since he was a small boy. They were easy to twist and use, yet, just as fickle as the rest of the masses when given the chance. If he had suffered a drastic defeat, he doubted that Lucius would stick long around before attempting to weasel out of trouble to stay out of Azkaban. It would be years before he would see young Harry again. He had plans to fulfill, though. It was not time to think of that just yet. When the wizarding world was brought low and his hand grasping all of it, then he could make plans for that future.

The Death Eaters arrived just as Lucius apparated away back to his own estate. For now, no one could know that Harry Potter survived and that he was currently to be raised by Lucius Malfoy. Lucius had been chosen because of Draco being the same age and having a wife willing to do the work. Voldemort could not very well trust the safe keeping of his prize to Bellatrix. Merlin forbid that he should have to allow her to raise an infant. She might very well be one of his greatest lieutenants but there was a lack of capability in such regards.

"My dear friends," Voldemort said to them all as they arrived, lining in ranks according to their worth in his following. "Tonight, I have returned victorious. The one obstacle in my way has been removed." He coldly laughed, a shrill cackle that rang through the ranks like a gong sounding the horror of nightmares. In truth, they were his followers and none of which could even remotely claim to be a friend. He gave them information as they were needed, but none of them truly knew him or his plans. Lucius did not have even the faintest notion of what was to come. "I have procured a few gifts for you all." He waved his wand and the floor opened up to reveal a few families ascending onto the ground around their feet. The floor beneath them was evidently a series of cells where they kept people of value. "Have your fun and dispose of them shortly after as you so please."

They jeered and insulted the prisoners like animals. Animals that he could so easily manipulate with but a few specimens for them to abuse, torture and subsequently kill. It was so easy to satisfy the horror of sadism he had worked to create in many of them that did not already possess the predisposition to it. Voldemort ignored the sound of screams from the victims on the floor as they began rounds of the cruciatus curse. His lips curled in a pleased smile, cold and cruel, while he made his way into the estate. Tonight was an exquisite victory for himself and soon he would have the entirety of the wizarding world in his grasp. The board was set into place and the pieces positioned to the very places that he had so desired. Everything would work to his advantage. Harry Potter was his. Nothing would stand in his way any longer.

* * *

><p><strong>author note: <strong>alright, so, as a head's up. this is a prologue/beginning/pre-cursor or whatever. i have divided this rather unequally because its just a general set-up. Tomorrow, i'll dig really into everything that happens. I'll be starting it so that Harry is in his fourth year and you'll learn about the past as much as he remembers and tells it. for now, i am also going to try and pump out as many good chapters as i can as fast as i can do it, but i head to college in like a month so when i get there the chapters will be slower. However, I will still try to give them to you guys as often as i can. Finally, hit me up with any questions you guys may have, i'll be glad to answer them.


	2. Harry Potter Returns

**Thirteen years later**

Harry Potter stood on the platform to the Hogwarts Express for his first time. In those many years since the wizarding world had seen him, their world had changed. The taking of Harry Potter had made him into something of a famous boy. It was the sole thing that was believed to have led to Voldemort's eventual victory. Dumbledore fought hard, continued to fight hard, but it was a losing cause. The taking of Harry Potter left him with no other chances to have a victory of Voldemort, and, in time, he was forced to surrender the wizarding world to his enemy with a cold finality that it would change. It did change. It changed very much.

While the Potters and Sirius Black survived, they were never the same. Lily eventually did give birth to a daughter, but she was a different person after it. The loss hit them hard enough that they didn't even have the will to try and fight Voldemort, more afraid of his death than anything else. Meanwhile, Voldemort placed Anselm Yaxley into the seat of the Minister of Magic, but it was little benefit as the world knew he was a puppet that responded to the every whim of Voldemort.

Hogwarts did not fare much better. He allowed Dumbledore to survive, but only as a trophy. It was as if the old man was little more than a prize for him to watch afar and be pleased that there was nothing left in his will to fight against Voldemort. Albus Dumbledore stayed as Headmaster for Hogwarts only to ensure that he could be able to protect his students to the best of his ability without incurring the wrath of the Dark Lord. The darkness hung over England palpably and, like a frightening disease, it prepared to venture further out in the world. The muggle-borns, if not killed off, were forced to find attendance in different schools such as Beauxbatons or Durmstrang.

It did not really matter. Voldemort had, in recent years, taken to expanding his dreams for conquest and set his eyes upon France as the next element to his rule. They had struggled and the new growth of war now on their doorstep had left more than a few to move into England to hide under his gaze rather than anything else. The most common of these families were the Delacours. Their eldest daughter still attended Beauxbatons, but for many years they had called England their home in an effort to escape the growing sentiments of pureblood elitists which hated the very nature of half-breeds such as them. They were just another example of all that had happened.

Among it all, there was Harry Potter. He had not been admitted into Hogwarts in his first year because Voldemort did not see fit to enter him. In truth, Voldemort didn't trust that a young boy like Harry might not be swayed by the forces that still held dearly in Hogwarts. James Potter was the Charms professor after Flitwick was forced out because of his half-breed status. Severus Snape had been instructed to teach the Dark Arts, talented as he was with the knowledge of the Dark Arts. Finally, Voldemort knew that if Harry attended Hogwarts, then it was likely Dumbledore would try his hardest to secretly gain favor with Harry and turn him to take up the defense of the wizarding world when no one else could.

So, Harry was kept where he always was. He was hidden away by Voldemort and trained ruthlessly by the one man that saw his ultimate prize in the past war to be Harry Potter. Harry was his diamond that from birth had been tutored and trained by himself to be the very thing that no one wanted young Potter to be. He would be a general to usher in the new generation of followers to the side of Voldemort. Harry knew no parental figures. There wasn't a soul that he understood to be his parents or someone that he should love. The one time that he could remember having tried to call Voldemort his father, he had been tortured. Every act of love was treated in kind with punishment until Harry had become cold.

Harry had long since locked it all away. He stood on the platform where Voldemort stood next to him on his left, signifying that Harry was his right-hand. There was no emotion in his expression as he stared into a world that he had not known since his birth. He knew no one. There hadn't been even a moment for him to come to the outside world because of Voldemort's worry that others might see him and explain the truth of him or that Dumbledore might seek to take him away before Voldemort could be complete. "Harry," Harry turned his attention to Voldemort as everyone passed away from him. Every soul was giving them a wide birth to ensure that they did not get close enough to Voldemort to irritate him into killing them. Voldemort was not known for his kindness, after all.

"Yes, sir." Harry said, the coldness in his voice was clear, but not as a sign of disrespect but an overwhelming lack of feeling. "Remember what I told you, do not fail me." Harry nodded, his green eyes tracing the signs of irritation forming in Voldemort's flaring red eyes. He understood because he had been on the receiving end of the punishments enough to know what would very well await him if he failed. Harry was the only one allowed the luxury to be where he was. He could be by his side because Voldemort had begun a very specific relationship between the two of them. It was not a relationship of father and son, but it also wasn't one of master and servant. It was the relationship of mentor and disciple.

"The train awaits you." Harry nodded again, moving with his trunk through the area as loaded his belongings onto the train. The whistle sounded as he piled into the train and settled into a compartment that was empty. His thoughts were his own.

"Harry!" A familiar voice sounded, and he turned in time to see Draco Malfoy come into the region with his common compatriots, Crabbe and Goyle. They settled on remaining outside of the compartment as Draco shut the door in their faces, much to their dismay. "Draco." Harry returned in kind, having known him since he was only a child and the only boy that he had even been allowed to be introduced to through his years of training. "My father just told me yesterday that you were supposed to come join us for Hogwarts." Harry nodded, entirely disinterested with everything and anything. It seemed almost sad that there was so little life in his expression. It was far from the boy that he had been at the age of one.

"Has the Dark Lord prompted you to a specific house or is he allowing the sorting hat to choose?" Harry turned his complete attention to Draco, then. It was clear that Malfoy was used to this sort of behavior, perhaps having seen it too numerous times to count. The coldness and the seriousness that Harry maintained unnerved the best of people. It always unsettled Draco. "He has allowed the hat to choose." Draco beamed, evidently pleased both with this idea and himself for being the sole person to actually know Harry. Malfoy turned to look as people had partially gathered to catch a glimpse of Harry as they passed by. He was, after all, the source of many stories and legends.

"I hope you don't get into Gryffindor, can you imagine?" Harry's eyes seemed to go out of focus at the remark because, yes, he could imagine. It seemed as though a massive wave of memories of the cruciatus curse came onto him and, if possible, his green eyes looked even colder. They had a darkness in them that seemed entirely more unnerving than the coldness he possessed on a daily basis. "Yes, I can imagine very well that he will be rather displeased with that outcome." Draco shifted uncomfortably, in similar kind to how Lucius shifted when under the gaze of the Dark Lord, but with much less fear in them.

"Do you mind ensuring that no one bothers me, my friend?" Harry said with a soft smile to Draco, as he waved his wand to transfigure one of the opposing cushions into a pillow large enough for him to lay his head down. "Yes, don't worry about it." He closed his eyes for a moment. There was a space of a few seconds as Draco yelled at Crabbe and Goyle to get everyone away from the compartment and head back down to sit with Blaise while he spent the time here. Harry drifted into his sleep as Draco sat at the edge nearby the compartment so that he could keep a watchful eye. Malfoy was always so pleased to be of use to Harry for the value of status and power that would come with the position.

Harry didn't care. What did it matter if Draco wished to share in the power of Harry's position? He slept gently as dreams came to him. They were not kind dreams because he had never had kind dreams.

**Flash back** -

"An excellent use of the spell but you better be faster with more power." Voldemort said to him, in that same shrill, high voice that Harry had known since he was but a boy. "Like this." Voldemort waved his wand in a quick pattern and the nonverbal curse crashed into his side before he could erect a shield to protect himself. The jagged, purple spell cut his side clear open and he yelled in pain from the damage it was beginning to inflict. Voldemort nodded to the Death Eater to the side, a woman that Harry could only guess must have been one of the many healers that was used to keep him alive through their training.

She waved her wand a series of times and the spell's effects passed off as it healed. There would be a scar left over, but it wasn't the first time. The one truth he understood was that dark magic always left cruel and unfortunate traces on you. It was the one side of magic that never let you forget of the damage it could inflict on your person. The normal spells could always be recovered fully from its effects but not so with the dark arts. Voldemort paced as he waited for her to be done, the irritation showing in his eyes.

"Leave me." Harry told the Death Eater coldly, but more to make sure that the person did not irritate his mentor any more than she already was. He did not desire useless death like Voldemort did. If she continued much longer, it was likely that Voldemort would kill her for taking too long. Harry could see fear flash in her eyes as she stumbled to stand and move away from him, and she became even more scared when she saw the expression on her master's face. "Harry, you head off tomorrow to Hogwarts, where I expect the very best of you."

"Sir?" Voldemort grit his teeth. "I have worked tirelessly so that the various ministries will consent to a Tri-wizard Tournament to be held at Hogwarts. They all shall think that it is a way to make my appearance all the more likable among the neighboring countries. I care little for this, as I am sure you know. It will be your first test to ensure that you are ready to take your place by my side."

"But-" He could see his master's eyes flicker with anger. "There is no 'buts' Harry. I have trained you with every precaution kept in mind because you are the only disciple I will take. I have no need of others. There is no one greater than I am and everyone will know that you, the lost Harry Potter, are in my hands now more than ever." Harry nodded. "Do not fail me, Harry Potter."

"What if I cannot do it?" Harry watched as rage poured over Voldemort's cruel features like a disease. It twisted in his slit-like nose as it pulsed in anger, his red eyes flashed dangerously and he raised his wand. The cruciatus cuse was on him, and he feel it's brutality wrenching his body. He screamed. The pain was a thousand knives digging into his body as he twisted and turned and convulsed just so that he wouldn't have to feel the pain any longer. "You will do it." It was lifted for a moment before it was on him again. Harry was lost in the agony so that he could only scream before his mind went numb to anything else.

**End flash back**

Harry shook from his sleep as the whistle on the train sounded. "Harry?" Draco said, standing in the middle of the compartment. He could only guess that Malfoy was steps away from waking him from his sleep. It was good that he had woken on his own then because it would likely have ended in an attack on Draco's person that was wholly uninvited. Harry had been taught from the beginning that he needed to always be prepared and, ever since the grueling training started, he had taken to attacking those that shook him awake. A few Death Eaters had been severely injured more than once because of failing to understand this truth.

"I am alright, Draco. You do not need to worry. Are you we at the school, then?" He could see the blond boy nod. "Go on ahead; I need to change into my robes." Draco made his way out of the compartment to join his fellow Slytherins while Harry changed into his robes in the nearest area and came to find himself alone on the station save for a single man. The man wore entirely black robes, had greasy black hair and dark eyes. "Hello, Mr. Potter." The man said to him. Harry ignored it in favor of making his way to the castle by whatever means necessary.

"I am Professor Snape, your Dark Arts professor." Harry eyed him with disinterest. What did it matter if he was to be taught Dark Arts by this man? Could he prove any more knowledgeable than Lord Voldemort? "Is there something the matter? I really must be heading up to the castle to be sorted." Snape seemed to almost sneer at him, for whatever reason, he could not know. "Yes, I know, Dumbledore has wished for me to guide you up to the castle in case you didn't know your way." Harry looked up at him, feeling an attempt on his mind from Snape but ignoring it as he had ignored much of what Snape was doing to him. He imagined they all sought to find out as much as they could about him, an attack by a Legilimency user was the least of his worries.

"Very well." He said to Snape as he followed him up into the castle. He could see the line of students all heading into what he guessed must have been the Great Hall. The first years had already just finished sorting and as he walked into the hall, he could hear a woman call his name. "Potter, Harry!" She said. The woman was older, holding the sorting hat delicately in her hand as he crossed the way from the edge of the hall to where a stool sat in front of the hall. Harry could hear whispers all around, but cared not for what anyone had to say.

Before sitting down, he could see a dark-haired man looking at him with a severely pained expression on his face. Harry thought that he looked torn between breaking down right there or running over to hug him, but he placed the thoughts out of his mind. As he sat on the stool, the professor placed the sorting hat over his head. He could hear its voice as it began to speak to him. "Hm. Difficult, very difficult. Yes, I see, Harry Potter, the long lost son of James and Lily Potter. It would seem there is a bit of courage there not unlike your father, but more than that there is cunning and ambition. Yes, you are ambitious to succeed in the face of the tests you face ahead of you. However, there is… something more. I can sense a value of learning, yes. You are an intelligent boy seeking to learn more and more for the sake of your own survival. But, where to put you?" There was silence through the hall as for a brief moment, the entirety of the hall hung in a single breath.

Some feared him being sorted into Slytherin where he would be welcomed as a prince among men. Even more, the other three houses were too terrified to have him. They all knew the story of how he had been taken that night by Voldemort and, for all intensive purposes, he might very well be a student completely under Voldemort's control. It frightened every student in the Great Hall. "Ravenclaw!" The hat shouted and he turned to see the dark-haired man sigh in relief. He could see others showing similar expressions while Draco looked immensely disappointed. He offered him a soft smile in apology and then sat at the very edge of the Ravenclaw table in silence. The rest of the night went very much similar to that. He could sense that everyone else was too afraid to try and speak to him. Harry didn't care. Fear had been a part of his life from the beginning, so, he understood their reactions to him well.

He took some food and drink while sitting quietly. Shortly, Dumbledore began to speak to his students. There was a twinkle in his eye, from what Harry could tell, but it was forced. Harry thought that it looked as if he was trying to be happy when he felt only a great weight of pain and sorrow. He could commend him well enough for his ability to remain strong enough to hide it from the students. It was easy to catch for him who had learned to look for even the slightest bit of emotion in Voldemort's face to determine how he should act.

"Now, before you head off to bed, I have some important news. This year we will be hosting a Tri-wizard Tournament as I am sure some of you might have heard." He looked over his spectacles at several students in the hall. Dumbledore did not, however, look in his direction. For what reason, he could not guess. "As such, we shall be playing host to students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. I ask that you treat them fairly and make sure to show the very best that Hogwarts has to offer. Also, our caretaker has asked for me to remind you all that you are forbidden of using Zonko products during school, a complete list of all such items is posted by his office. Now, off to bed." Dumbledore smiled but it seemed somehow, as before, forced.

Harry followed the path to the Ravenclaw tower as the first-year students were explained how the password for the Ravenclaw tower worked. He listened only as he needed to. Before he could get into the tower, the same dark-haired man that he had seen before came running around the corner. "Harry!" He yelled out, and everyone looked at him quickly before rushing into the tower, glad to be away from Harry. Harry sighed, realizing that whatever future lay in this castle, it would not be kind to him. "Can I help you Professor?" The dark-haired man looked at him with clear confusion cut across his face. "Harry? Its me. Its your dad. James, James Potter."

Whatever emotions he had towards this knowledge, Harry hid it well. He did not smile nor offer him anything close to kindness. There was not even coldness. There was only an empty expression that clung to his face as if the news meant very little to him. "I am afraid that I have no father. You must be mistaken. Good night, Professor." Harry turned his back on his dad without any hesitation. He followed his group into the tower and disappeared inside. He was guided to the dorms where the rest of the fourth year Ravenclaws were preparing for sleep. They did not acknowledge his presence whether it was for fear or hate of him, he had no idea.

Harry laid down on the bed and stared up at the overhanging where blue and bronze surrounded him. It was the first time he had slept in something truly comfortable and something that wasn't dark, and dank. He felt comfortable. He felt at home. He closed his eyes to prepare for the days ahead of him with students that seemed to want as little to with him as could be afforded. Harry prepared to dream, but, as always, his dreams were filled of horrific memories of Voldemort.

* * *

><p>James sat down in a chair that Dumbledore had offered him. His past thirteen years had been a near nightmare. Yet, tonight, he had been confronted with his son, alive and well. The entire feast he had taken glances at him hoping that this wasn't a dream. He had been all the more pleased when he wasn't sorted into Slytherin. It was proof that there was something still there or maybe he was clinging onto a hope that had little more to offer him over these long years. The hope was dwindling even more after having talked with him. He couldn't imagine how a boy that he remembered to be so happy and full of life could have turned to something so empty and lifeless. There was only the faint notion that his son even felt anything at all.<p>

"Albus, you didn't see him. There was nothing there." Albus Dumbledore was standing by him, stroking Fawke's head as he mulled over everything that had happened. The worry of the Tri-wizard Tournament had been pushed aside for the worry of Harry Potter. They had all believed him to be dead even if there was no proof whatsoever to the contrary. He knew that James and Lily had held out hope for a great many years, but there was never any real evidence that he had been kept alive through all this time. Yet, here he was staring them in the eye after thirteen years. Where had he been?

Severus came into the office shortly, ignoring James. While it was true that there was no love lost between them, there was little reason to be cruel to James at the time. They treated each other neutrally at best with a complete disregard for each other. What value was there in crushing an already broken man? Snape might very well hate him, but he, himself, would be no monster of that kind. He would save that for James and his arrogance. "Albus, this is rather disturbing news." Albus turned to him. "Yes, yes, it is." His eyes did not have the mirth or twinkle in them that he had forced himself to display only minutes before.

He had taken to trying as hard as he could to keep his students as safe from harm as he could. The joy he pretended to possess was meant to make them feel a little bit more safe from the horrors of the outside world. Their world was a place of oppression and if he could get them to forget it while at school, then, he had done what little he could these days. "Did it work?" Severus shook his head. "I attempted to use Legilimens but… he blocked me without a single after thought. He has had extensive training in, at the least, Occlumency." Dumbledore nodded. It was clear that Voldemort was up to something, something that he could not know. Why hide Harry for thirteen years only to allow him to return now? What purpose was there?

"We must operate under the assumption that Voldemort has sought to, at the very least, train Harry extensively for some unknown purpose. It should be our utmost priority to discover the reasons behind everything going on here. Voldemort has some plan, some plan brewing in his mind that must be discovered if there resides any hope for Harry." James remained sitting down, trying to decide how to carry it all out. His son was before his eyes, but refused to even acknowledge that James had a place in his life. He feared telling Lily the news of all of this. "James, you must try your hardest to reach out to Harry. It is likely that Voldemort expects such a thing from you, and will see it as little more than a father reaching out to his son. He might suspect ulterior motives, but less so than if I or someone other was to reach out to him." James nodded lamely. He understood the importance of it, and merlin knew that he wanted to desperately reach out to his son. However, it felt like a betrayal to be doing it to discover what that monster wanted to do with his son. Shouldn't he just seek to want to reach out to his son? There should be nothing but that single desire. Yet, nothing seemed so easy these days.

"Its best that we rest on this for now. Nothing can be done tonight, but remember keep a watchful eye on Mr. Potter through your classes tomorrow. The more we know about him, the better." They all nodded, each lost in their own thoughts of what was happening. James was the first to exit, followed closely by Severus as Albus went over to his pensive to extract the memories from his mind. What was Tom planning? There was some reason for Harry to be here and some reason he had chosen to train instead of kill Harry on that night, but what could it possibly be? 

* * *

><p><strong>Author note<strong>: So, Harry is at school now and you have a small little idea of what its been like. Next Chapter will likely delve more into him and his past before I introduce the people from the different schools as well as Fleur into the story. There's going to be more into his skills as a wizard and how he's developed, as well as those who will be loyal to him, against him, and generally the preparations for the up and coming tournament.


	3. The Schools Arrive

The next morning, Harry awoke before anyone else in his dorm. It did not matter to him; he was used to this. The years of training had been long and arduous with him waking early in the morning and getting as little sleep as he needed to have for the next day. Besides, they would not have wanted his company anyways. He knew enough from last night to judge the situation accurately. Even if Harry had woken up at the same time as them, his fellow dorm mates would have just shunned him to the side. He changed quickly and walked down the Ravenclaw Tower. Harry ignored the few students awake at this time and made his way further out.

He walked alone down to the Great Hall where the tables for breakfast were largely empty save for a few people. One such person was Draco Malfoy sitting alongside Crabbe and Goyle likely because he wanted to have the first chance to sit and talk with Harry. Harry took his time to walk over to where Draco sat, not interested in whether his friend was seeking to use Harry's position of power once more. "Did you sleep well?" Draco asked him immediately. Harry nodded because he doubted that Malfoy would want to know the truth. The truth being that he rarely slept well because of the myriad of memories he had or the thoughts of what would happen to him if he failed his tests at Hogwarts.

In truth, he felt the fear. He felt it like a cold companion because it was all that he was allowed to feel. He could love no one and even less could he feel affections for others. There was only the fear of what his master would do if he so much as blinked without his guidance. "What do you have for your schedule?" Draco asked. He looked at the sheet in his robes that signaled the list of classes he had received from his head of house, James Potter. It was ironic in and of itself that Professor Potter should be his head. "It looks like I have Dark Arts first with… ah, the Slytherin house."

Draco smiled alongside him. It was clear that he had already known this simple fact, but, again, Harry cared little about that. The simple truth was that he endured the flaws of Draco's character for the value of having what little friendship he could be allowed to have. Draco was the only person in this entire castle that he could claim to be friends with while everyone else seemed to regard him with either disdain or fear. He raised his head to see a few Gryffindors across the table eyeing him in a rather unfriendly light, which he guessed had to do with his connection to Voldemort. The mystery surrounding the pair of them seemed to give him more people filled with hatred than love. It was as he thought it would be.

The wizarding world did not exactly share a love for Voldemort after all that he had done. Harry reached towards a muffin and began to take some butter to place on it as he settled into the natural order of things with Draco. He laughed falsely at the jokes that were being told, and pretended as though he was as interested in their conversation as he possibly could be. They laughed with each other as the rest of the students begin to file in and each of them took note that Harry Potter was friends with Draco Malfoy. Some Draco sneered at and others, like most Slytherins, sought to ingratiate themselves around Malfoy and himself. It was something that Voldemort had said would happen. Voldemort had said it clearly that the weak would seek the comfort and value that came with following those of true power. It was a clear example of that lesson that he had been taught. Voldemort told him that he shouldn't take the time to reject those that would want to get close to him but embrace them as the followers he would need at Hogwarts.

By early morning, they were all done and Draco led the way to the classroom that was formerly the Potions room all those years ago, but now had become the Dark Arts classroom. Professor Snape stood at the very front where he welcomed Draco kindly enough if a bit less noticeable than Harry would have thought given what Draco had told him. However, Professor Snape seemed to take no real interest in Harry, regarding him as little more than dirt on his shoe. "Come on, Harry." Draco motioned to join him at back of the room while the majority of his Ravenclaw peers moved away from him.

Professor Snape began to drone on about the latest curse that they were being directed to learn about. He was teaching them of the importance of a new series of curses that were to be taught and, subsequently, learned through practice. There were few that could fully teach such curses safely but even if he had been remotely interested in anything the man had to say, he would still not have paid much attention. The Dark Arts were a field that he was extensively well-versed in especially when he compared himself to his peers.

His lack of interest quickly caught the Professors eye who glanced his direction as if exceptionally irritated that Harry was taking no note of him at all. The more that he stared off into the distance, the more Snape seemed to react or otherwise find it offensive to his practices of teaching. "Am I boring you, Mr. Potter?" Professor Snape said to him. Harry could hear the annoyance in his voice but felt little need for him to do anything about it. "Not really." He wasn't bored, but neither was he particularly interested. It wasn't as if he was trying to anger his Professor or anything. Why should he care how he dictated his classes? In the end, he would learn faster and more efficiently if he had been at home. Home? Hm, it was funny to think of his training grounds as anything like that but what else could it be called? It was the only thing home enough for him in his life.

"Then, is there a reason why you aren't paying attention to my lesson?" Harry shrugged. It wasn't really his problem if Snape wanted to get into a tizzy over one student not paying attention. "No, not particularly, you can continue if you want." Despite themselves, he could hear the class chortle slightly while Draco seemed to be growing more and more uncomfortable by the sudden change of events. He imagined that his friend didn't so much like the idea of being stuck between two people he was immensely fond of. "Well, then, you could say that you've mastered the spell, correct?" Again, he shrugged. For the most part, he could say that but he didn't want to create more problems than he needed to. It appeared, however, that he did not have a choice. The overall apathetic attitude towards Professor Snape seemed to irritate him more than open rebellion against him.

"Come to front of the class and show us your expertise, Mr. Potter." He could see Professor Snape snarl at him and, for the first time since he had come to this castle, he had the sinking desire to wipe it off of his face as efficiently as he could manage. "A rat, sir?" He turned to the specimen at the front of the class. "Is something wrong?" Harry shook his head. "I'm just used to practicing on humans subjects." He didn't mean anything by it, but the general consensus around the room was that it was a horrific notion. Professor Snape even seemed to be partially disturbed by this particular thought, but he couldn't understand why. Wasn't it normal for him to do that?

"You will stick with the rat for this lesson." He nodded. It was before anyone could even blink that he had moved. One moment, he was stoically cold. The next, he had his own wand loosely in his hand very much like an expert as he aimed it towards the rat. They didn't even see him flinch, twitch or move when his wand was already poised towards the rat with killer intent. "Torqius Praecordium!" He spoke evenly like he was doing an everyday task such as mopping the floor and not using a particularly nasty spell from the arena of Dark Arts. The spell fired out of his wand, a dark red, jagged movement that hit the rat in the next second. He twisted his wand with a cold finality and the rat flopped dead onto the mat it was on.

The thing that had caught Professor Snape's attention was not the cruelty that had hung in Harry Potter's eyes as he killed a rat with the same leisure as he, apparently, would have shown to a human subject. Professor Snape stared at something on his left forearm quite openly, "What is that?" Snape said as he pointed clearly to a marking barely free from his sleeves on his robes. Harry looked down to see it poking out from under his robes and clenched his teeth. Voldemort had told him that if it came up, he could not deny it. It was one of the many conditions that would play into everything. "I think you know." Snape seemed to have forgotten his setting for the moment as he clenched his teeth tight together. "Show me."

Harry pulled up the sleeve to show that the Dark Mark was engraved on his skin as clear as day. "So, it's true, you were trained by the Dark Lord." He put the sleeve back over it as he turned his back from Snape to make his way back to his seat next to Draco. "Did anyone in this castle think otherwise? Everyone here judges me because it is to their assumption that I have been raised by my master. There you have it; it is the proof you need to justify your judgments of me." One of the very important factors to being the disciple of Lord Voldemort was that he had to understand a great many things. First off, he was never allowed to use Voldemort's name publicly with leisure. It was a risk that it could encourage others to do the same, which would be unforgivable. Second off, he had to answer all questions about himself as it related to the Dark Lord unless they involved secrets that only Harry was allowed to hear. This mark was not one of those secrets.

As he sat down, Draco gave him a sympathetic smile followed in short by a sneer at the people around them. The Ravenclaws and many of the Slytherins viewed him with fear. It was not as if everyday somebody saw a fourteen year old boy wearing the Mark of Lord Voldemort on his forearm. Worse yet, they had all seen the way he used the Dark Arts. Harry used them like it was his right hand and he looked to be comfortable with them, too comfortable. It frightened more than a few. However, Draco was not one of those people. It was probably because they had been around each other long enough for Draco to see the way that he used the Dark Arts. He was already prepared for the fear of seeing Harry respond so easily with them.

"Everyone is dismissed." Professor Snape said, not taking his eyes off of Harry for a single moment. Harry stood and gathered his belongings as he made for the door as quick as he could. He had no desire to stick around long enough for them to gawk and stare at him with those fearful eyes he now saw everywhere that he seemed to turn. Draco said his goodbyes as Harry turned a different corner to head to his next class. It was going to be with Gryffindors. He turned the corner just in time to run into a Hufflepuff that he had heard about from Draco, Zachary Smith. Draco told him that he was an obnoxiously weak Hufflepuff, not that anyone was surprised when it came to the house of Hufflepuff. Harry just began to move onward.

"Are you going to apologize?" Several Ravenclaws stopped to see Harry trying to move forward to his next class. He did not want to have to deal with this right now, especially after the class that he had just had. "Did you hear me?" By the way that people were whispering, he imagined that it was likely the boy had his wand out already. If he had the luxury, Harry would have closed his eyes for a moment to sigh in frustration at being stuck in a situation that would just paint him poorly. What was it? Was it ten minutes since he had just come into conflict inside of the Dark Arts classroom? This would not go over well.

Then, the sound of a crash was heard as he felt the spell hit the shield he had erected just in case the idiot would try to attack him. Harry had hoped that he wasn't so stupid, but he had been wrong about that. He had been wrong that nobody would notice the mark on his arm as well or that nobody would be surprised at the ease he used that spell. Voldemort had told him dark magic was used regularly at Hogwarts. There was nobody that would think it abnormal for him to be gifted at it. His master had been wrong or maybe he had lied to Harry about it. Harry had been just as wrong about Zachary Smith.

Unfortunately for Zachary, the attack ignited inside of him a drive for a duel. He was well acquainted with attacks. Harry was so well acquainted with them that the initiation of one in such a way triggered his personality like a switch. The calmness that he had was thrown away in favor for the darkness that he kept reigned-in so as to not risk further complications in his studies and tests. He was not here for the leisurely stroll but to prove himself to his master. Harry turned around instantly with his wand already in his hand. Zachary fired a curse that Harry easily deflected, two more came his way but they were weak and wide. In fact, he almost didn't even need to deflect them away from his body.

He got closer and Zachary attacked faster. "Diffindo!" Harry yelled as he ducked smoothly under a curse and his spell hit the edge of Zachary's sleeve to cut it open wide. It was intended only to spook him, which it did successfully. "Altumictus!" He finished. The curse was a particularly dark one and the last that had been shown to him before he had left for Hogwarts. He knew very well what this curse felt like. There was a moment of pure satisfaction as he watched it slash open Zachary's side. Zachary fell to the ground as he screamed and blood pooled around the wound. It was then that Harry realized that he was being watched by a fairly large crowd. They did not seem to even register that Zachary had started this entire conflict. They just stared with horror in their eyes.

Harry stepped back and every movement that he made seemed to spook them more. His eyes would come to stare at someone and that person would back away from him. They gave him such a wide birth that he didn't need to worry about them colliding into him even by a remote accident. There wasn't any way that he could touch the crowd as it moved away from him. "Get Professor Snape before he bleeds out. I'm sure he knows how to deal with this." He turned away from the lot of them as the silence hung in the air, and two students rushed off to Snape's classroom. Blood pooled around Zachary's body and he walked down the hall opposite of him to head to the next class. It had seemed so much easier to come to Hogwarts before now. Voldemort had made it seem as though it was another matter of him suffering some grueling test. However, this seemed so much worse than anything that had ever laid before him.

In the hour that passed, the entire school became aware of how Harry Potter had unjustly attacked a Hufflepuff student known as Zachary Smith. The effects of the attack had left worry over Smith to the point where many believed he would be in the Hospital Wing for weeks while trying to recover and likely would not come out with anything less than an ugly scar as proof of what he had gone through. Even more, it was known that Harry was a prodigy of the Dark Arts and dueling. There were rumors that climbed higher and higher painting him in the light of being a true disciple of the Dark Lord. By the end of the day, there was a frightening number that had come to hate him and even more that remain utterly terrified of what he could do to them.

Draco had tried to reason that they ought to be afraid of Harry because he was taught by the Dark Lord. He knew that his friend was trying to make as light of this as he could. It was Draco's snide way of trying to make Harry feel a fraction better over the entire thing.

* * *

><p>The following month was terrible for Harry. The few people that came along him had come to practically worshipping him for his being so close to the Dark Lord and those that didn't were giving him such a distance that he couldn't help to notice how he was apparently effecting them. As far as the Dark Arts class that Snape taught, every lesson seemed to prove his talent more and more for them. He could pick up on the ones that he didn't know with barely any teaching and used them faster than any of the rest of his students. Whereas he suffered a great deal more in things like Potions and Herbology. He was come to be seen as Harry Potter, Son of the Dark Lord. The title earned him a great deal of mixed views.<p>

Harry spent the month avoiding the worst of them all, James Potter. James seemed to be stuck between disappointment that his son had turned into something that he couldn't possibly recognize and a desire to try his hardest to reach out to bring him back to where he belonged, as James said. Harry had been prepared for the attempts. Voldemort had told him it would be one of many tests to see if he was ready. The truth was that it wasn't too hard. He knew that they shared the name of Potter and that Harry was, essentially, the true Son to James. However, it was long ago and he was no longer that same boy that had come into this world. Harry was now more of a creation of Lord Voldemort's cruelty than the product of James and Lily Potter's love for each other.

He spent a great deal of time ignoring him.

By the time that late October was upon him, he had firmly become the one person that nobody should associate with. It was on that day that the other schools finally arrived. "Come on, Harry!" Draco yelled out to him as Harry walked evenly out into the area by the Black Lake. He followed but with much less enthusiasm than Malfoy did. In fact, everything had become even less interesting, in the last month, if that was even possible. They watched as a carriage drawn by Pegasus twisted and turned in the air coming to land roughly along the grass in time and moments later the Black Lake broke with the eerie shape of a ghostly ship that broke into the air around it. "The ship is from Durmstrang and the carriage is probably from Beauxbatons." Draco smirked, and Harry knew the self-satisfaction that came with his friendship to Draco was washing over his friend again. Harry chuckled at him, before turning his attention to the front where everyone from the different schools was being gathered together.

Professor Snape came out. "Now that everyone has amused themselves." He called out with a sneer. "Get to the Great Hall for the feast that has been prepared. Durmstrang will be eating with Slytherin house while Beauxbatons will join Ravenclaw." Draco smiled to Harry, obviously encouraged with the Durmstrang school much more than Beauxbatons. As usual, Harry had no interest either way.

They went back up to the Great Hall where the tables had already been set for them to eat. He could see an item up at the Professors' table but could not see exactly what it was. His attention, though, was focused more on the food before him as he prepared for the rest of the schools that were about to be gathered with them as well. Harry sat alone at the edge of the table, shunned as always by those of his house and a part of him wishing he could just get up and move over to the Slytherin table and sit with Draco. Instead, he was forced to stick here in solitude. The Beauxbatons' girls and boys came in to sit among them, but the Ravenclaw students urged them to steer clear of him like he was some kind of disease. The whispers of who he was were already being spread.

Harry held his head back; frustrated that it wouldn't really matter in the long run with a new group of people. They would all judge him the same as the others. Before he could ponder on this any longer, though, Dumbledore stood up to speak about the Tri-wizard Tournament. "I welcome both Beauxbatons and Durmstrang to Hogwarts for the Tri-wizard Tournament. It is an honor and a privilege to have you among us. Now, we are here to enjoy this tournament that has come upon us and, as such, you must be eager to hear about the requirements to enter yourself into it." There was a slight mirth as he eyed several students in Gryffindor. It was no shock to him; Harry knew that Dumbledore favored the lions.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet. Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete. To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of fourteen will be able to cross this line. I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet."

Dumbledore finished with a clap of his hands and a twinkle in his eyes, which Harry had grown to know, was a forced expression to ease the minds of those in the school. "Tonight, however, we shall enjoy a feast to celebrate our hope for a unified, international society." He raised his glass and took a drink from it as the students around the Great Hall did the same. After being finished, he left his position to go sit once more among the different Headmaster and Headmistresses that were with him and speak of what was to come. Harry, meanwhile, bit back a response to gawk at it all. Dumbledore was well aware it was just another design of Voldemort's. His master was seeking some plan and some aim to control elements beyond what was seen with the naked eye. Yet, it was also possible that Dumbledore was playing at his own game. Voldemort had warned Harry about it. He had said that Dumbledore was not someone to take lightly, not his intelligence and certainly not his power.

Harry took a drink of pumpkin juice before grabbing some meat to eat carefully and slowly. He savored the taste and the silence, a silence meant to be interrupted. "Excuse me." He heard a woman's voice, which was odd in that girl's didn't usually speak to him around Hogwarts. They all seemed much too terrified of him, even the Slytherin ones that adored him. He should probably attribute the Slytherin girls' response to the effects of adoration, though. Still, it was odd that a girl should be speaking to him. He turned his head and, for the first time that he could remember, he was struck by something. The girl gave a kind of life to him.

She was a radiant beauty that couldn't be shaken away from. The girl had long, flowing blond hair, beautiful blue eyes and a face that he felt could likely light up a room. There was, however, no fondness in her expression. This girl had a kind of anger in her eyes that he hadn't seen before and it was different than everyone else. Everyone hated him for his connection to Voldemort but in a different way. They hated him as one hated an enigmatic, mysterious dictator. This girl had a passionate anger in her eyes and he knew that nothing good could come out of this. "Is it true? You're Harry Potter?" He nodded. "They're telling me you have been trained by the Dark Lord and that you bear his mark."

Harry sighed, but nodded in consent nonetheless. He pulled up the sleeve to show her the evidence of it. There it was, a snake coiled around a skull engraved onto his flesh as a bitter remainder that he would never escape from Voldemort even if he wanted to. Harry had accepted his lot in life to being the disciple of Lord Voldemort. There was no amount of complaints, hatred, anger or contempt that would change that. He knew it was coming probably before she even knew it was. The French girl spat into his face without hesitation.

He calmly pulled his glasses from his face and wiped the spit from them and from his face using his robes. There was a general collective gasp as they waited for him to respond. Harry had, after all, sent a boy to the Hospital Wing for doing something in similar kind. However, he was pleasantly surprised that he felt no anger, but rather amusement. She interested him. Hell, there was something about her that made him feel alive, truly alive! "Fleur, please, don't do this." Fleur turned to her friend, a bushy haired girl with brown eyes and rather large front teeth. "Hermione, don't stop me. If it weren't for his 'master', then neither of our families would have to hide for fear of being discovered. You would have probably gone to Hogwarts had you not been forbidden just because of your blood status!"

Harry smiled, darkly. He wasn't sure if this new found interest and life was a good thing or a very bad thing. However, he kind of liked the sensation. "You have a lot of gall for someone in your place. I would be wary, if I were you." There was a dangerous tone to it. But, if he was honest, he wasn't sure if he really would care to harm her. If not for her beauty, then for the general backbone that she possessed which he had seen in nearly almost no one else. "I shall head back to my room, Headmaster, since I am no longer wanted here." Harry said. He was smart enough to know that Voldemort had likely told Dumbledore to give him every luxury Harry wanted whether he wanted to or not or lives would be lost as punishment for his failure to do so. Harry had already been instructed not to do anything hasty that would create problems for his master. If a few students were sent to the Hospital Wing, then so be it, but deaths would likely not be looked on with a favorable eye. At least, not in the castle.

He took the time to glance once more back to Fleur, the girl that had so audaciously confronted him in the very public arena of the Great Hall. There was a high chance that a lot of people were going to seek to protect her. It wouldn't be needed, though. He had no real reason to attack a girl that he liked so much. He wasn't really sure in which way he liked her but he liked her enough. The girl had backbone. She was definitely someone he needed to watch. "Let us hope that I have the chance to see you around, Fluer." He grinned and walked out of the Great Hall.

As he made his way up to the Ravenclaw Tower for bed, he found that his day had gotten amazingly pleasing. There wasn't the remotest chance in hell that he had imagined he would find himself confronted by a girl like that. In fact, he couldn't seem to get her out of his mind. She had a kind of flare about her. It was like staring into fire. There was a beauty in it that was so very undeniable and, yet, there was also a kind of danger in it. The fire, as beautiful as it was, could clearly hurt people in devastating ways if burned hot enough and long enough. Yes, his school year had just gotten a lot better. Suddenly, he hoped very much that she was her school's champion. It would make things so much more interesting.


	4. The Champions

Harry slept better than ever before. It was not just Fleur, though she had moved it all. Sure, she had opened a kind of door to his thoughts that were left shut by his coldness. The blame for it lay on Harry despite her push to forcing it open.

In the next morning, He woke up early again. There was, like always, no use waiting for anyone else to come awake. They would treat him with their prejudices and it would serve no purpose to remain around them. What did it matter if he spoke to them or not?

Therefore he decided to take a walk by the lake. It was fall, and the waters would be freezing, but he liked it. He jumped into its icy, shocking waters to break into the love of his mind. Everything else faded away as the rush of cold erased even the sensation of feeling alive.

As he swam, the crack of sound, though only barely heard, sounded. Harry jumped out of the waters as soon as he saw the familiar cloaked form of his master in the distance. Harry dried himself with a nonverbal spell before falling on his knees as was custom. Inwardly, his mind was frantic as to why the Dark Lord would be here. Had he failed him?

"Rise, Harry." Harry rose to his feet.

"My Lord?"

"I have come to congratulate you."

"For what? If I may be so bold."

"The first trial has been completed."

"It has?"

"You have asserted yourself as my disciple, whether on your own means or not does not matter. They fear you."

"It is as you say."

"Today, the submissions for the tournament begin."

"Yes." Lord Voldemort's eyes flashed, "Y-Yes, My Lord." Harry corrected.

"You will find a way to enter as the fourth champion."

"How so?"

"I do not care." Harry flinched at the tone of his master.

"But, I thought I was to be the Hogwarts champion."

"You are to be my champion!" The shrill, high-pitched voice exclaimed in a deadly whisper.

"My apologies, master." Harry said, and gave a short bow to try and alleviate Voldemort's growing temper.

"Do not fail me."

With his final words, Voldemort vanished with a crack into the early morning light. Harry breathed out and collapsed to the ground. Behind him, the form of James Potter came up to him before he could try to escape from him.

"Rough morning?" Harry stared at him, and wondered if he had been spying on their conversation.

"Something like that." James nodded.

"Why won't you talk to me, Harry?"

"I am having a conversation with you."

"Not really, you don't talk but for superficial things!"

"Professor," Harry sighed, "stop this futile game."

"Damn it! Just talk to me!"

"It is pointless."

"Why!"

"Because I am no longer your son."

"Yeah, you're Voldemort's disciple." James said, and he regretted the slip of his tongue.

"That's right," Harry said no sign of emotion able to break through his defenses. "and not you or Dumbledore or Snape can change that."

"Yes we can, it isn't too late." Harry laughed at his father.

"Oh yes, it is."

"We can help."

"You don't get it. I belong to him now and forever. If you should try to pull me away, he will kill you to show that there is no way out. Save yourself the trouble by being reminded that I serve the Dark Lord and his every whim. The war was lost, and he is victorious. It's over."

Harry got his feet and pushed past his father, who could only close his eyes in exhaustion. Truly, his son had become warped and twisted by their enemy. There had to be something good in him still. Otherwise, James would lose his mind. It was far worse to suffer a son turned into darkness than to have him killed as a matter of causality during the war.

No one was able to find him through the rest of the day. Harry did not attend classes, find communion with Draco, or even get into an argument with the hoards of people that despised him. Instead, he had taken books upon books to figure out the spells he would need to fool the cup into thinking there was four school represented.

Harry spent hours atop the towers in a hidden classroom and secured the door with strong sealing spells. The solitude cleared his mind as he prepared the time at night to bring controversy to the hall when the winners were announced the next day.

* * *

><p>The path that night was clear.<p>

He put an invisibility spell on his robes and wrapped himself in them. There was no one in the halls except for the occasional prefect and the Great hall even emptier. Harry closed the door. His wand was in his hand as he nonverbally cast a confundus spell to enable his goals.

The cup glowed blue. Next, he took out the paper and placed it into the cup. It accepted it with a strange bluish-white light of fire, but he could only hope that things had gone according to plan. There was no guarantee that he had succeeded or failed until it would be too late to correct his actions. As he left, Fleur bumped into him and the robes fell off of him. Harry cursed his lack of attention.

"What are you doing in there, Potter?" Fleur said, and her lips curled into a disdainful remark.

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with."

"Don't mock me."

"But, it's so easy." She grabbed his robes.

"You think it's funny?"

"I find it amusing."

"How so?"

"How can it not be? You dare to touch me when I," He leaned in to get close enough to smell her fragrance, and to whisper into her ear, "who has been trained by the greatest of wizards, could make you suffer in ways that not even you could imagine in your worst nightmares."

Fleur let go. The coldness in his voice froze her emotions and thoughts to her very core. True, she had stories from the rest of the students how frightening of a man that he could be. Some had relegated to her the memory of seeing him tear apart Zacharias Smith in a duel with not so much as a blink of his eye. She hated him still, but meeting a man who knew only the coldness of darkness tended to freeze a person to the very bone. Harry chuckled.

"Goodnight, Ms. Delacour." He bowed to her, and turned back down the hallway with the robes in his arms. Yes, Fleur really made his life come alive.

* * *

><p>Harry sat with Draco during the dinner of the next night. They had eaten and enjoyed the food until Dumbledore began his speech about the tournament and how it would bring not only gold, but eternal glory, like Harry cared about such things. The first of the names shot out of the fire of the goblet as Dumbledore's aged fingers wrapped around the parchment.<p>

"The Hogwarts champion is," Dumbledore smiled, agedly, "Ronald Weasley!"

The Gryffindor table erupted in cheers as a tall, lanky, redheaded boy of fourteen stood up to greet two other boys that were a little older, but of the same features. He walked up with a wide grin plastered over his face. Dumbledore guided him to an open door which led him to an open room for him to wait for the rest of the champions to join him.

"The Beauxbatons Champion is," Dumbledore continued as the fire ignited again, "Fleur Delacour!"

The Ravenclaw table erupted with cheers as the Beauxbatons students cheered for her. She hugged the bushy-haired girl named Hermione and was guided down the same way as Ron.

"The Durmstrang Champion is," Dumbledore repeated as like before, "Petrov Kakaroff."

Harry could see a bulky boy of average height come from down the row of Slytherins as their headmaster wore an unbearably elated grin. The connection was clear, it was the headmasters' son.

"Now that we have our final champions, the tournament shall begin for the Triwizard cup!"

Harry did not pay attention to it. Fear like never before was coursing through his body. He had failed. Draco turned to him, but stopped when he saw him. Coldness like never before showing in his eyes, and his body shook with a constant vibration. He shook because he knew what would come. There would be no escape. The Dark Lord would punish him worse than Harry had ever been punished before. A part of him wondered, if he would not suffer death for this failure.

As the fear gripped him, the cup began to ignite again with a violent fervor. Relief washed over him as he waited with hope that his name would rise out of it.

Uncertainty hung in the Great Hall. The fear in his heart was beginning to fill the crowd, as their reactions mirrored what his had been almost minutes before. They all knew something was wrong, very wrong. James, as if with some prior knowledge, started at Harry with disbelief and concern. Harry ignored it. A paper was thrown into the air, and Dumbledore's hands shook for a fraction of a second as he grabbed onto it.

"Harry Potter." He said, but with a fear on his tongue that only Harry could hear. The rest would not know, but Harry was a master of the incremental change of emotion in people. It had let him survive in his training with his master. Otherwise, he doubted very much that he would have been alive today.

Harry stood up with no hesitation. Once more, he was calm and cold like a block of ice. There was the smoothness of his walled emotions as he followed the way down. They stared at him as if finally seeing that there was a wolf among a flock of sheep. He did not care. For all intensive purposes, they were right.

As he came down, he smiled with satisfaction. Ron held a burning hate in his eyes, and Harry knew him as one of the strongest supporters of Dumbledore and the light. Petrov was neutral towards him, but Harry knew that Karkaroff's were followers of his master. Yet, Fleur was no steadily avoiding his eyes and he could guess it was because of last night's encounter.

"Mr. Potter," Dumbledore began as he stood with the organizer of the tournament, Barty Crouch Jr., Olympe Maxime, and Igor Karkaroff. "Did you put your name in the cup?"

Dumbledore was offered only silence from Harry as Harry stood resolute. Harry could feel Dumbledore attempt to break through his Occlumency barriers, but please as the man was failing to push past them. He would have smiled in satisfaction if it would not have created more problems.

"It does not matter." Barty said.

"Like Hell!" Igor replied, but Harry very much doubted that the reply was all that heartfelt.

"I am sure everyone here would not want to upset the balance by forbidding young Mr. Potter from competing."

It might not have been said directly, but they all knew what he meant. The Dark Lord wanted this to happen, and no one would go against him. They all, for individual reasons, feared the retribution should an event begin to happen.

"Certainly," Professor Dumbledore said, but his eyes seemed to flash with anger. "It might be good for us to let our champions rest over the disturbing events. There shall now be four champions in our competition."

* * *

><p>"Albus, things are getting out of hand." Snape said, and they all felt it.<p>

"I know, Severus, but what should we do?"

"I don't know." Snape slumped into his chair, wary over the pain of seeing Harry Potter become such an efficient disciple to the Dark Lord. He had clearly usurped the positions of all the others, Bellatrix and Lucius to name but a few.

"He said it was a test." James said.

"Who did?" Dumbledore asked.

"Voldemort."

"He was here?"

"Yes, earlier yesterday morning."

"Why?"

"To congratulate Harry and tell him what to do next. We know my son is practically a protégé of Dark Magic, and possesses the Dark Mark, and the revelation of how close their relationship is seems to make everything fall into place."

"Our assumptions are true, then. Voldemort has not only trained him extensively, but he has sent him here to show the world that young Harry has been molded and changed into the one man worthy of being his chosen successor."

"It will be difficult, I mean, he told me himself that he sees no way out with us. There is no escape from Voldemort in his eyes."

"Then, we must seek to find a way for him to escape from him."

"And if there is no way, Headmaster?" Severus asked.

Dumbledore slumped into his chair, feeling all of the weights of responsibility and age come to his body. "Then, Voldemort has truly won, and Harry is truly lost to us."

* * *

><p>Alright, so, here's the deal. I've been swamped with school, but I wanted to get through this part. It is severely shorter than the other chapters but its kind of just to get through this part of it. After this, they will be stronger than before, and a lot of things are going to change. Hit me up while I work on the others about How you feel about Ron being one of the champions and anything else of interest in this chapter. The next one will be up ASAP.<p> 


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